


bite your tongue

by littleladysugar



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 97 line worries about big scary college, Alternate Universe - High School, Attempt at Humor, Coming of Age, Friendship, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Road Trips, Secret Santa, imagine being stuck with these guys in a car, it got a little sadder than i expected my bad, pancakes and high school musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleladysugar/pseuds/littleladysugar
Summary: This is it. Seokmin's last summer as a teenager before he, Mingyu, and Minghao are forced to be young, functioning adults in college.Well, they will be- but they have to survive a cross country road trip first.(or, to quote the Fruit Bats, "When you love somebody and bite your tongue all you get is a mouthful of blood")





	bite your tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softlees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlees/gifts).



> i... haven't written seventeen in a while, and i've never written seok and chan as main characters. this is also a huge stream of consciousness and i should TOTALLY go back in and edit it, but i ended up quite liking it. i hope you enjoy as well!!! and are doing lovely!!! i'll see you at the end~
> 
> \-----------
> 
> as for the lovely karina, who this fic is for:
> 
> ≧◡≦ hi!! i couldn't be more happy that i got you. you are such a sweet, bright, and energetic soul- and this story turned out to be more angst than i would've liked for a person as kind as you, but eh- that's the way the cookie crumbles. hehe. i hope i did your boys justice, and that you enjoy the story. happy holidays, and thank you for always cheering me on! i love you!

For the next 12 hours, Seokmin will be trapped in a car.

Planned, though- not like in a kidnapping way. Except, sometimes road trips could start to feel like a hostage situation.

Cicadas buzz like fizzing pop rocks in the summer sun. Seokmin sits on the porch, pillow tucked under his arm, watching his friends finesse their luggage into the trunk.

“You can’t put the duffel on the bottom, it’ll get squished,” Minghao protests. He tries to grab at the bag, but Mingyu blocks him with his stupidly long limbs. He pouts childishly, bottom lip jutting out.

“Who cares? There’s nothing important in there,” Mingyu whines, hopping side to side to stop Minghao from breaking through his arm-wall.

“Chan put all his energy bars in there, they’ll get crushed. Just let me put it on top!” Shoving aside the taller boy, Minghao yanks the duffel out to put it on top of the other bags. Nothing rests on top of it anymore, and the trunk looks more organized.

Seokmin likes to think packing up a car is like playing Tetris… It’s no coincidence that Mingyu is very bad at Tetris.

“Speaking of Chan,” Minghao mumbles, “Seok, could you go get him?” The boy turns to face Seokmin, running a hand through his bleached hair. Sweat shines thickly on his forehead, and Seokmin offers a light smile before rising to his feet.

The past five hours have been spent trying to pack the car. Yes- _five hours._

It shouldn’t take that long- but when you’re four confused high schoolers with no spacial recognition prowess, it does. Not to mention the fact they were all mentally gearing up to spend the next few days or so with only each other.

The last time all three of them had been together for so long was for their first sleepover. It was a long weekend- probably Labor Day or Memorial Day (Seokmin could never tell them apart)- and the trio agreed to hang out at Mingyu’s house. What was supposed to be a few hours of playing video games turned into ordering pizza, setting up sleeping bags, and camping out in Mingyu’s basement. Then in the morning, instead of separating like normal people would, Minghao unashamedly asked his mother if they could use his house for another night- and by Tuesday morning, they were waking up for school together.

A wave of bittersweet emotion passed over Seokmin, nestling soundly in his chest. While they were bound to have a good time on the road, and had been planning for weeks, it was this- and then nothing _._ Mingyu would have to pack for school, because he had to leave earlier than Seokmin and Minghao, and their summer would be over.

Why does the fear of something ending win out against the feeling of enjoying it?

Seokmin peeks his head through the screen door. “Chan? Channie? We’re gonna head out soon!” He hears a metallic crash, and sees the brunette slide around a corner, backpack on his shoulders. With his wild hair, jean shorts, and bright green pack he looks like an elementary schooler.

“Finally. I’m coming!” Chan brushes past Seokmin and out the door, who follows. It’s a wonder that Chan is still so energetic. How does he do that? The elder three look like death warmed over.

“Okay kid- you’re in the back,” Mingyu says.

“Please don’t call me kid- I’m not a kid,” Chan says, which is obviously a lie.

“Who’s got shotgun?” Minghao asks as Chan passes him to slide into the backseat. His arms sit crossed over his chest, and he’s playing with his lip between his teeth. Something tells Seokmin that Minghao really wants the front seat, so he raises his hand playfully.

“Me! I got it!” Before they catch him, Seokmin scurries to open the passenger door. In a flash, strong arms are wrapped around his stomach, yanking him back.

“ _Fuck_ no, you’ll get us lost!” Minghao basically growls, right in his ear.

“Like that would be a bad thing. C-come on, we’ll have fun!” Seokmin tugs forward again, but he can’t stop himself from laughing. Minghao is clawing at him, trying to reach the dorm handle before he does. Seokmin snorts, “Do- do you really t...trust me that little?”  
  
“Yes, yes I do! You got us lost going to Joshua’s house once.” Minghao eventually wrestles Seokmin away, placing himself in front of the passenger door. The tips of his ears are red- he kind of resembles an angry guardian elf, or something.

“Ok, that’s true. Please forget what I said,” He trills, trying to put on puppy dog eyes. Minghao gives in with a giggle, sparkly and bubbly, so Seokmin tries jab at his sides, hoping to tickle him.

“S-stop-! Oh.. .Oh my god- Gy- Gyu… help!” Minghao gasps, almost snorting between the laughter. Still on attack mode, Seokmin is trying to find every opening as his friend squirms and attempts to push him off.

“Hmm,” Mingyu says, thoughtfully, “nah.”

“You _ass_ -”

“Guys, we should leave now if we want to drive before it gets dark,” Chan says, rolling down his window. Seokmin yields and releases his traumatized victim who shoots back a look of mock anger.

Satisfied, Chan rolls the window up, and Mingyu scurries back around the car to hop in the driver’s seat. He’s the only one of them with a license.

Seokmin shrugs. “I get it. You just want to sit next to Mingyu,” he says, delighting in the immediate reaction. Minghao’s mouth gapes open like a fish, the tips of his ears growing red as cherries.

“That’s not- I don’t- Well you just want to sit next to Chan.” He’s mumbling, tripping over his words. Wow, Minghao is _too_ easy to tease.

“Of course I do! But it’s not the same!” Seokmin sings, skipping to open the back door.

“You’re wrong!” Minghao sings back.

* * *

 

They haven’t even made it 40 miles before Chan admits, sheepishly, that he needs to take a bathroom break. Mingyu pulls into the nearest rest stop, and the youngest bolts out of the car and into the convenience store.

A young woman sitting behind the plexiglass counter greets them with a little less than a frown, her hair tied in a frazzled ponytail. Milling around the aisles is a young couple with their son, dressed in a bright yellow coat.

Seokmin’s always liked that color, it makes him happy and reminds him of sunflower petals and summer.

“Do you ever think of how many people pass through here,” Mingyu says, voice mystified in the way only a roadside truck stop can make you. It’s a careful balance of reality and fiction here, in the blinking fluorescent lights and rows of shiny plastic packaging.

“Sometimes,” Minghao admits. He picks up a candy bar and turns it over, examining the ingredients before putting it back on the shelf.

“One time my parents left me at a rest stop when I was younger. It took them 20 minutes to notice I was gone.” Seokmin says.

“At least they got you. And I don’t know, it’s… kind of similar to airports. There’s just a bunch of strangers here, and we’re all doing whatever we need to do, but we would never meet anywhere else. Like that couple over there. Everyone has their own life, I think it’s pretty fascinating. You don’t ever think about that?” Seokmin can hear the familiar lisp slip past his teeth.

Whenever Mingyu starts to get really excited about something, his lisp comes back out. It’s nothing too serious, and is actually quite endearing- but Mingyu is a little self conscious about it since he went through speech therapy as a child.

Minghao laughs softly. “Okay can we not get all prolific for a few more hours? It’s not even dark yet.”

“I’m serious,” Mingyu pouts. Seokmin leans over to poke his cheeks (fondly of course) and Mingyu lightheartedly swats him away.

“I mean you’re not wrong, it’s kind of cool to think about. Life is cool.” Minghao concedes. He picks up a package of chips and squeezes it to see how full the bag is. “I hate that these things are always more air than chips. What’s the deal? Doesn’t air make chips stale?”

“Aha! Actually, it’s not air- my dear friend- but nitrogen gas. The reason it’s there is to _prevent_ chips from becoming stale.” Mingyu says, tone brimming with grandeur. He snatches the bag from Minghao and gives it a shake.  
  
Minghao stares back at him owlishly. “How do you know that?”  
  
“Chemistry, or something- the class we had with Mr. Brown.” Mingyu explains. Minghao snaps his fingers together, like a light bulb’s gone off.

“Oh yeah! I barely remember that class, it was too early,” Minghao says, leaning in to nudge their shoulders together. Something twinges in Seokmin’s stomach and he turns away. Maybe he’ll go find Chan and see what the younger boy is up to.

Minghao and Mingyu will be fine on their own.

Seokmin wanders off through the rows and rows of gas store goodies. Chan slips out of the bathroom with perfect timing so they run into each other, face lighting up with the brightest smile.

“What took you so long?” Seokmin eggs him on.  
  
“I was just admiring the decoration in there, it’s really something.” Chan says, suddenly turning very serious. Nodding, Seokmin plays around and thoughtfully taps his finger to his chin.

“Ah yes Mr. Lee Chan, our bathrooms are meant to provide only the finest quality.”

“Certainly, Mr. Lee Seokmin. I can see why you have the best reviews in the county. I must say, did you redo the place before I came?” He takes on a phony accent, pinky up.  
  
“Why, of course! Nothing less than the finest for our favorite customer. The shipment of new toilet paper came in from France yesterday!” Seokmin slings an arm over Chan’s shoulder, leading him down the aisle filled with ice cream.

“Okay, okay.” Chan tries to shrug him off but Seokmin fights for the spot, keeping a hold on the younger boy. They make their way through the row with leisure, occasionally stopping to point at ice creams that have puns in their names.

Conversation with Chan is something special. Though Seokmin would never say he’s the most responsible person, or should ever be trusted to take custody of a child, he wouldn’t mind taking liability for Chan. A lot of people feel that way about him- Minghao and Mingyu, too.

Actually, the road trip was only supposed to be the three of them until Chan mentioned he had a dance showcase in Georgia and no way to get there. Except by plane, but that was a lot of traveling and a pain.

Minghao, Mingyu, and Seokmin had cleared out their schedules for a summer roadtrip months ago for a last adventure, and Chan’s competition happened to fall during that time.

“It’s going to be so boring around when you guys go off to school,” Chan says, leaning close to one of the freezer doors. His breath creates frost on the glass.

Seokmin smiles. “When we go off…that’s only in a few weeks. Can you believe it? For Hao and I, at least. Mingyu leaves sooner.”

He and Minghao were going to the same school, just under different majors. They weren’t rooming together, either, but at least they’d be close to each other. Mingyu was going to be a few hours away.

“That doesn’t help. You’re still all leaving me forever.” Chan frowns.

“We aren’t dying.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Chan rolls his eyes.

“I know. But really, we’re not leaving you forever. We’re still here, you’ll just have to call us to talk instead of coming over. And we’ll be back for break and other things.” Seokmin tries to increase the wattage of his smile, he doesn’t want Chan to worry. “And Seungkwan and Hansol still live at home, they’re great.”

“It just won’t be the same, I guess.” Chan fiddles with the strings on his hoodie, and Seokmin taps against his hand.

“It’s scary to think about. But you’re the smartest and bravest person I know, not kidding. You’ll be okay. We can FaceTime a lot, too. It’ll be like we never even left.” Admitting that he’ll be in a different place and away from home is a lot in the first place. Seokmin tries not to get choked up.

“Promise?” Chan holds his pinky out so Seokmin locks their fingers together.

“I promise.”

* * *

 

Pink slashes across the horizon, bright against a landscape that seems to grow darker by the minute. They’re still in Midwestern territory, so there’s fields everywhere, and tall stalks of wheat frame silhouettes against the sky.

Music carries itself from the blaring stereo out the open windows. To Seokmin’s right, Chan has his hand outside, making little waves with each hit of wind like a dolphin.

“Can I put something on?” Minghao asks when the song ends, reaching for his phone. Holding power over the aux cord is a dangerous thing- one selection can make everyone love or hate you.

“I swear, if you play the _Your Name_ soundtrack one more time I am kicking you the hell out of this car. That is _not_ road trip material.” Mingyu says, the severity of his voice enough to get Minghao to put the phone down.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, “noted.”

“What about _Hairspray_ ? Or _Legally Blonde?_ Actually- no. _High School Musical_ !” Seokmin jumps, grabbing the back of Mingyu’s seat and giving it a hearty shake. It’s vital to his survival that he hears Troy Bolton’s rendition of _Bet on It._

Chan lets out a glorious yell of agreement, and Minghao stirs alert in his seat. Before he can protest, Mingyu snaps fervently, pointing at the aux cord.

“Yes- play that right now! Please, this is perfect!” Minghao hesitates for a moment, staring at Mingyu like he might take it back. There’s something comical about the tough dancer asking for help from a boy who’s the living incarnate of a puppy.

But then there’s a goofy grin on Minghao’s face, and Seokmin can tell he’s been won over. Mingyu always seems to have that effect, like how the favorite child will always get their way if they beg hard enough.

And it barely took a minute. Minghao’s such a pushover.

“Only if we listen to _I Gotta Go My Own Way_ ,” Minghao complies, handing the phone over to Seokmin. He quickly types the title in, and the first notes are crying from the car within a breath.

There’s something oddly prolific about belting out old songs at the top of your lungs, in a car with the windows down, feeling the wind on your skin and watching the sun dodge the trees as you pass. It puts a warmth in Seokmin’s stomach, cocooned there beneath his heart. It’s a real type of happiness.

He has to stop singing along for a moment, laughing openly, mixing with the noise of his friends carrying the tune.

Behind them, miles of road they’ve past over stretches like a ribbon across the countryside. It feels like, with each roll of the wheels, they burn through a path they won’t be able to return to.

But as the soundtrack shamelessly fills the air, their singing accompanying it, Seokmin has not a care in the world. He doesn’t have to think about how this may be the last road trip they take together.

Mingyu will be going to study business in college, and there’s no telling if he’ll have time to sing _High School Musical_ with them when he comes back.

“If we were all in this movie, what characters would we be?” Minghao asks, craning his neck to look back at Chan and Seokmin. The smile on his face is glowing.

“I’d be Troy,” Chan says, almost too quickly.

Seokmin shakes his head, patting the younger on his knee. “Sorry buddy, but Mingyu is definitely Troy. He played football.”

“Troy played basketball,” Mingyu comments from the driver’s seat. Minghao reaches over and nudges him in the side playfully. They’ve had this argument before.

“Same difference. They’re both sports. And- Troy was all handsome and popular and surprisingly naive. _You’re_ Troy.”

“Then you’re Sharpay,” Mingyu says, with so much conviction that Seokmin is almost impressed _by_ him instead of terrified _for_ him.

“I am _not_ Sharpay!” Even the thought of being perceived as Sharpay seems to be the greatest offense to Minghao. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down a little too hard.

“You are!”  
  
“No, _Seungkwan_ is Sharpay. I’m Zeke, but instead of baking I like art and stuff.” Minghao retaliates, refusing to accept his assignment.

“Who am I?” Seokmin asks. If he doesn’t stop the two now, they’ll go on forever.

“You could be Gabriella. You’re the only one nice enough to be her,” Minghao says, turning to face the backseat again. It’s a sincere compliment, actually, and Seokmin chuckles in response- to which Minghao smiles kindly.

“Isn’t Gabriella smart, though?” Chan says.

 _Ow._ Dear lord. It must be payback for being deemed not-Troy. Instead of fighting back, Seokmin decides to be an adult and laugh it off (he’ll cry about it later).

“Don’t speak to your father that way,” Minghao says.

“Chan could be Taylor,” Mingyu offers, through his laughter. It’s a good enough fit- Taylor may be too uptight for Chan, but they’re both intelligent, hardworking, and friendly.  
  
“I’m cool with that.” Minghao says. Then, “Mingyu, why would you say I’m Sharpay?”

Seokmin is about to answer, but Mingyu beats him to the punch. It’s okay, this was a conversation between the two of them to begin with. He can’t expect to keep up...

“Because Sharpay was always following Troy around, and it seemed like they hated each other, but I they got along really well in the end.” Mingyu says smugly.

“How dare you.”

“I love you though!”

“No.”

* * *

 

Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin met in 8th grade. They had gym class together, which- as all middle schoolers know- is social torture if you have no friends. It wasn’t until a few days into the year that they talked, but once they did, they kind of just… didn’t stop.

Breaking into groups of three was the best, because they could all be together. Breaking into pairs or groups of four was always a little more difficult. For pairs, Minghao and Mingyu would always latch onto each other, so Seokmin paired with Hansol- who was a year younger than them but in the same grade.

When they ran laps, Mingyu and Minghao would hang behind so they could jog with Seokmin and have the same time. During the acrobatics unit, Minghao taught them to tumble, and Seokmin was able to provide a few pointers during volleyball.

His true expertise was his cheering, though.

Once, a stray ball hit Mingyu in the shin. Seokmin distinctly remembers him crumpling to the ground like a tall, awkward, prepubescent jenga tower. The gym teacher was the only adult in the room and couldn’t leave the class unsupervised, so Minghao and Seokmin had to drag Mingyu to the nurse’s office themselves.

The whole time Mingyu was complaining about how badly it would bruise- which made Seokmin lose it, because getting hurt in any minor way seemed like the end of the world to him. He almost started crying, and Minghao had to juggle between telling Mingyu to “suck it up” and convincing Seokmin that everything would be alright.

He was right in the end, and Mingyu managed to sweet talk his way into getting waived from physical activity for a whole week.

All three of them were supposed to return to class after being dismissed, but they took a little detour instead, and went to the vending machine by the teacher’s lounge for Twix and gummy worms. They spent the rest of the class period huddled in the stairwell near the theatre that nobody ever went by, eating snacks and talking about what their classes were like.

Since that time, it feels like everything and nothing has changed.  
  
Chan is passed out in the backseat, his head resting heavy on Seokmin’s shoulder.

It’s night time now and the road doesn’t have a lot of light, so the moon casts the scenery in watery blacks and pitch blues. If Seokmin cranes his head to the side out the window, he can see the glittering sky above.

“Seok, are you awake?” Mingyu asks, catching his eyes in the mirror.

“Yep! I don’t fall asleep easily in cars.”

“Do you think we should stop and get a room soon?” Minghao suggests, voice laden with exhaustion. Seokmin doesn’t know how he’s staying awake, he looks like he could pass out any second. “If we… find a Holiday Inn or something, we can split it. Won’t be too expensive.”

“We’ve only driven for 5 hours though, I think we can make it the whole way through if we-”

“No we can’t,” Seokmin interrupts, as gently as he can. Mingyu’s eyes flick up to meet his again, and Seokmin motions his head to where Chan rests soundly. If they continue on through the night, not only would the three of them become quite irritable, but Chan could hurt his neck sleeping like that.

Seokmin couldn’t fathom the stress he was already under- a sore muscle was the last thing he needed before the showcase.

“You’ll fall asleep, too, Gyu. You always fall asleep in moving vehicles,” Minghao mumbles.

“Says you. You can barely stay awake,” Mingyu scoffs. Different from his biting tone, he’s actually concerned. He looks down at the other- who is curling in on his side to fit more comfortably against the window.

“Don’t… be an idiot.” Minghao closes his eyes, but he’s still awake. “Take a break if you need to. I’ll kill you if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun to be in a hotel! We can get sleep in actual beds, and then in the morning we can eat breakfast together and discuss how many people we think have been murdered in our room.” Seokmin says, relieved when he hears the other two laugh.

At least, he thinks they laughed- Minghao looks so close to drifting away that it may have been a snore.

With some convincing, Mingyu obliges, and Minghao finally does fall asleep. Seokmin opens his phone to find the nearest hotel, and within a half hour or so they book a room and haul the bare necessities up. Luckily, the sleeping boys aren’t too difficult to wake.

Chan’s hair is going a rainbow of ways, slick against his head, and Minghao is dreamy to the point where Mingyu has to push him along to get him to walk.

“We have two queen beds, right?” Mingyu asks, inserting the key and pushing the door open. Minghao stumbles in, Chan following suit, and Seokmin inches his way past to flick the lights on and set their bags down.

“Yeah, which one do you want?” Seokmin looks to Mingyu, who’s watching as Chan plops down unceremoniously on the far bed. Minghao is already burrowing under the covers of the other. “Or, I guess, _who_ do you want.”

“Not mine.” Minghao stretches out upon hearing the question, trying to make himself as large and inconvenient as possible.

“Hao, you-” Mingyu sounds beyond dead, “seriously. We’ve shared a room at camp before. We’ve shared a _bed_ before. Scoot. Over.” The boy shuts the door with force and kicks off his shoes, ready to climb under the sheets. Minghao lets out a loud groan.

“I can sleep with him if you want,” Seokmin volunteers. It’d be a lot easier that way.

His friends, although they did care for each other (that part he was sure of), had a habit of going back and forth constantly. It already happened today- at the rest stop and in the car- and Seokmin just wanted them all to get some rest.

“No, it’s fine. Mingyu can be with me.” Minghao almost immediately gives in. He recoils his limbs of defense, and Mingyu jumps onto the mattress.

Not wanting to push it, Seokmin slides in next to Chan- who has already returned to a hushed lull of sleep. They probably should brush their teeth and wash their faces, or at least change before sleeping, but all are too tired to get up. It’s funny how sitting in a car for hours just makes you want to lie down.

“Goodnight,” Mingyu says. He reaches over to slap off the light switch, plummeting the room into darkness.

“Goodnight,” Seokmin echoes.

The first day, admittedly, could’ve been a lot worse. They could have gotten in a car crash, or ran out of gas, or Chan could’ve choked on one of the 10 sticks of gum he shoved in his mouth at once.

Seokmin turns on his side, pulling the covers snug over his shoulders.

A few months ago, he’d started suspecting that something was up with Minghao. He wasn’t acting differently, per say, but the look in his eyes- the way he melted into every interaction like it was _too_ natural- made Seokmin start to think he might… like Mingyu.

At first it was just thoughts, ones that he casually passed to Chan when they were hanging out. Part of Seokmin thought it would be funny to bring up, but the other part of him was secretly hoping that Chan’s response could confirm or deny his guess.

 

> _“Hmm… do you actually think that though?” Chan asked, eyebrows drawn downwards._
> 
> _“I don’t know.” Seokmin shrugged. He really didn’t. He had just thought, if anything, that there might be_ something _different-_
> 
> _“I mean, it’s not… crazy to say. They do spend a lot of time together. I think- Maybe he- I don’t want to_ say _Minghao likes him but it_ could _be possible.”_

They never really talked about it again, but more clues kept popping in support of Seokmin’s inkling.

In the spring was their senior prom, where everyone fancied up and traveled around eating nice food in big groups of people. Traditions like that felt silly sometimes, but Seokmin wanted to indulge in one last event with his friends.

Together, he, Minghao, Chan, Seungkwan, Hansol and some other boys took pictures at a nice park and traveled to the dance together. Mingyu wasn’t with them. He had a date that wanted him to go in a different group instead- friends she said she had grown up with, and couldn’t imagine not spending the night with.

It hurt more than Seokmin liked to admit.

Any long lasting friendship has bumps in the road, and prom was definitely one of theirs. Passive aggressive texts and long nights discussing what to do aside, even on the day of prom- Minghao was notably more sour than Seokmin was.

He just wanted to try and enjoy the night. They would see Mingyu at the dance and could take pictures with him there- he had even agreed to go to Minghao’s house after together, but that didn’t seem good enough for Minghao.

At one point, a slow song came on over the stereo. All of the single students hurried away, or grabbed a close friend to dance with, as the couples took to the floor. Seokmin went back to his seat, next to a boy named Jungkook who was in his group- because Seungkwan and Hansol had started dancing together.

It turned out that Minghao and Mingyu had, too.

Apparently, Mingyu’s date was in the bathroom during the song. He took the chance and asked Minghao to dance instead. Seokmin silently watched them sway to the music together, near the middle of the floor, occasionally disappearing between the throngs of couples and the painfully purple lights.

Minghao’s suit was inky black, tailored to perfection on his skinny frame. Mingyu’s tie was also black, despite the fact that his date’s dress was green.

Seokmin never said anything about it, but he has to admit, he’s never seen such a pretty thing. They looked at each other like they were the only people in the room.

That was a huge clue, but Seokmin had never confirmed the idea with Minghao himself, and he didn’t want to assume anything no matter how obvious it seemed.

While it probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal to ask, he knew it could potentially make things awkward. And he hadn’t even started to think about how Mingyu factors into everything- if he’s oblivious or might like Minghao as well or if it’s all a faulty assumption.

Seokmin just wants everyone to be happy. He doesn’t want this road trip to turn into an affair of turmoil and miscommunication. Maybe it’s inevitable, but that would be the worst way to end things.

They’d all been together for five years. And now, they’d be going off to college in a little more than five days.

If Seokmin stares hard enough into the darkness, concentrating on the wiggles of nonexistent light, he can see the other bed. Shapes tell him that Minghao has flipped to his other side, and the curve edging above his waist looks like Mingyu’s arm.

A lot could happen in five years. A lot could also be undone in a few hours.

* * *

 

Morning came much quicker than expected, the sun sneaking under the blinds and into their room. Seokmin blinks the grogginess out of his eyes, turning to his side. Chan is already up, scrolling through his phone, and turns to give an encouraging smile when he sees Seokmin is awake.

Minghao is easy to wake, but Mingyu is a different thing entirely. The sleeping giant won’t budge, and he keeps asking for five more minutes.

“There’ll be no more minutes left in the day!” Seokmin yells, but he’s not really angry. Actually, he can’t keep the grin from seeping into his voice. He reaches over to grab a decorative pillow off his bed and lobs it at Mingyu’s head.

“Why… why are you- please stop,” Mingyu mumbles into his arm. Seokmin relentlessly cracks the pillow into his head again, and soon Minghao joins in.

After they force him out of bed, they waste no time in gathering their belongings and heading down to the lobby. The four of them together look somewhat like a mismatched gift basket of people.

Chan is smarting a pair of simple, framed glasses- he looks like a normal high school student- but next to him is Minghao, whose bright bleached hair and matching tracksuit make him stick out like some affluent son of a CEO.

A lukewarm continental breakfast later, they’re piled into the car again, tapping the location into Google Maps and taking off. About an hour later, nobody has said anything.

“Oooh, let’s play a game,” Seokmin suggests. The countryside is fiery yellow and misty with the light of the rising sun, and everyone has had their coffee. There’s no reason to start off the day with such dread!

“What type of game?” Chan says, angling his head.

“A while ago I learned about this word game called ‘Ghost’. You-”

“Oh, I’ve played that before!” Mingyu interrupts. He bounces in his seat a little, and Seokmin shoots him a knowing look before continuing.

“It’s really fun! I swear. Basically, you go in a circle and one person starts. That person gives a letter, and then everybody adds on and they try-” He hopes he’s making sense.

“You’re not… wait, _how_ do you play?” Minghao asks, turning around in his seat. There’s wrinkles in his forehead.

“It’s easier to figure out by playing it,” Mingyu interjects. Chan nods along like he knows what they’re talking about.

“Mingyu and I can show you! Here, give us a letter.” Seokmin sits up straighter, gesturing to Minghao to start the game, and Mingyu turns down the music.

“Okay… then, how about… ‘B’.” Minghao looks expectantly at the rest of them.

Seokmin is pretty good at this game- Seungkwan taught it to him during callbacks freshman year. He played it all the time with his theatre friends after that, willing to flex his random word skills whenever the opportunity arose.

“Uh… ‘A’.” Upon hearing Mingyu’s answer, Minghao makes a little ‘o’ with his mouth, seeming to understand the game now.

“Give me a C! BAC!” Seokmin sings suddenly, so loud that his voice bounces off the walls of the car. Chan giggles, covering his ears as if it hurt. Sometimes he went a little overboard and it actually _did_ hurt, so Seokmin offers a sheepish smile of apology.

“I think I got it. Um… K? BACK?”

The car _erupts_ \- at least on Mingyu and Seokmin’s side- both clapping their hands like seals and yelling. Minghao lets out a yelp of surprise, and Chan sits there with his mouth hung open and eyes wide.

“What? What did I do?” He pleads. He shakes Seokmin lightly, who is still making a huge show. “What?”

“You can’t finish the word! That’s how you lose!” Mingyu says, letting out a bright whoop.

“Come on, you never explained that!” Chan accuses, pointing a finger at the older boy with his eyes still saucer-wide.

“It’s okay, that was a practice round,” Seokmin says, reaching over to envelop Chan in a quaint hug.

“A practice round. Alright, I got it now.” He seems to be satisfied, leaning back down with an acknowledgement of his head.

The feeling of injustice has turned into laughter, his voice lifted with disbelief. Minghao starts to giggle, and so does Mingyu, and so does Seokmin until they’re all laughing, breathless fools.

When they stop, they decide that Chan should start the game, and they go around in circles. The scenery eventually morphs from the soft hills of farmland to something more barren and flat. For a little bit, Seokmin can see a city in the distance if he concentrates- hidden among the stretches of green and random trees.

“Does anybody want chapstick?” Minghao asks, pulling a tube out of his pocket. He swipes some on his own lips first, spreading it thickly, even though it doesn’t matter since he’ll probably bite it off in a few hours.

“Let’s start another round,” Mingyu speaks up. He takes the chapstick from Minghao and lathers up before passing it on.

It takes every fiber of Seokmin’s being to not say something stupid like, _‘You guys just kissed indirectly.’_

“Okay! Can I start?” Seokmin wiggles a little bit in his seat- he’s got a great word in mind, and if he’s calculated correctly, it’ll get Mingyu out.

“Sure.”

“Okay, ‘A’.” He claps his hands together sharply, gesturing for Chan to go next.

“That’s- you just spelled a word, didn’t you?” The younger accuses, eyes lit up like fireworks.

“Oh my god, you’re right. ‘A’ is a word, you lost!” Minghao turns with a cackle, victorious, until Seokmin throws the chapstick right back at him. He then quickly apologizes, smiling.

* * *

 

If they keep going at a good enough pace, they’ll probably make it to Georgia by sundown. That’ll be just the right amount of time to get a decent hotel, settle down, and work out their schedule with Chan’s.

In the meantime, while they travel, Seokmin seems to have gotten into an informative version of ‘20 Questions’ with him.

“What are your tips for applying to schools?” Chan asks, leaning in.

During the fall, Chan would be sending in his transcripts to a bunch of different colleges. Seokmin remembers how frantic he himself was- except he wasn’t as organized or focused as Chan.

“Um, make sure to edit your essay. And talk to admissions officers if you can. Never be above being nice and sucking up to get something.” Okay, he’s pretty proud of himself for that answer.

“Then, how do I _actually_ get in? What if I don’t?”

Seokmin answers faster this time, “You’ll be fine, your grades are better than mine.” It’s true- Chan is a straight A student and he makes more time for studying than he does eating, it seems.

“Oh, stop it. Thank you. And lastly... what would a banana’s first words be if it could talk?” He has to think about that for a moment, but luckily this question is _much_ more up Seokmin’s alley.

“Please stop eating me!”

“Good answer. Finished!”

Giving Chan advice on college is making Seokmin have all types of feelings.

Granted, he’s only a year older- but when you grow up together, stepping back and thinking of how much time has passed can be really hard. It’s like when you write an essay and double space it to see how much you’ve written, and it stretches across three extra pages.

Just a little bit ago, they were going to Mingyu’s first football games together and cheering in the stands. Watching Minghao at his back alley dance offs, and passing down their study materials to Chan. And now they were on a cross country road trip to deliver him to some national competition.

The gravity rests heavy on Seokmin’s heart.

“I’m proud of you,” he hums, grinning. It may seem random, but he needs Chan to know. He sniffles a little bit. If he keeps on talking, of course he’s going to-

“Oh, don’t cry,” Chan coos, smiling back. He leans over and wraps an arm around Seokmin, squeezing tightly. He sighs. “Thank you.”

They return to playing for a little longer until Mingyu decides to pull over at a pancake house, since they have time to spare. The four of them mash into a booth together, shoulder-to-shoulder, and order. Seokmin’s pancakes are piled high when they arrive, syrup dripping off them in a sugary drape, a scoop of glazed bananas and chocolate chips on top.

The whole place smells like a huge bag of flour exploded, but it’s nice and comforting. There’s not a lot of people, but the old wood furnishings and dozens of plants make it feel homey.

“That looks really good!” Chan says, motioning to Seokmin’s plate with his fork.

“Do you want some? Honestly, it kind of reminds me of what my grandma used to make for me when I slept at her house.” The older slides his pancakes over, inviting Chan to dig in.

He watches Chan pick up a hefty bite, immediately covering his mouth with a gasp of wonder. “Oh my god… this tastes like gold!”

“I don’t think gold is edible,” Minghao says with snark, but there’s a quiet smile on his face as he watches the youngest take another bite.

“Actually, it can be. Like gold flakes and stuff- a lot of bakers use those types of ingredients.” Mingyu says helpfully, before leaning across Minghao to grab a fistful of napkins. To no one’s surprise, he’s managed to spill some of his chocolate milk on the table, but he’s quick to clean it up.

“Huh. That’s cool. I feel like I should’ve known that, I’ve probably had it before.” Minghao says. “You always know such random facts.”

“Is that bad? I thought people liked them,” Mingyu says.  
  
“I think it’s cool.” Minghao shrugs, moving in for another bite of his pancakes. Mingyu giggles, low and goofy, causing Minghao to join in.

“Your grandma made stuff like this?” Chan asks with raised brows, directed towards Seokmin.

“She was the best, she’d always let us sleep in and eat candy whenever we stayed there,” Mingyu perks up. When they were in middle school and wanted to hang out, but none of their houses were available, they would call up Seokmin’s grandmother and plead to use her spare room. She would always say yes- they probably didn’t even have to beg in the first place, but it felt like common courtesy.

“Remember when Gyu scored his first field goal and she almost threw a party for him?” Minghao teases.

Oh god, how could they forget _that_?

During freshman year, Mingyu was lucky enough to be put on the starting junior varsity team. Not quite varsity yet, but still a big deal to them at the time. The last game of the season, when they were trying to grab the final playoff spot, Mingyu kicked the extra points that won the game.

“ _Yes!_ And she invited all our parents and that weird neighbor we were convinced kept cats in his basement,” Mingyu exclaims, clapping loudly. Grinning, Chan watches and listens attentively as they reminisce.

“God, we were _convinced_ he was evil. We were so weird as kids.” Minghao shakes his head, reaching for another sip of water.

“We were kinda strange. But, still- oh, remember when Seokmin’s mom tried to set him up with that girl down the street?” Mingyu snickers. Thinking of the memory makes his temperature rise- he doesn’t want to mull over the awkward setup longer than he has to.

“You dated her later on though! Sophomore year,” Seokmin says, accusatory.

He doesn’t miss the way Minghao bristles. “You _dated_ her?”

“Only for like… 2 months. It wasn’t real, I don’t think we even held hands.” Mingyu takes a bite of his pancakes, thinking nothing of it. Minghao seems to cool down a bit.

He doesn’t lose his temper easily, (well, in a joking way he does- but not seriously) and Seokmin swallows down his surprise at seeing Minghao get worked up.

“Does anyone want more syrup?” Chan asks, interrupting the conversation to set the pitcher down in the middle. Seokmin silently thanks him for his superior social skills.

“I always want more syrup.” He reaches for it, slathering another healthy layer onto his stack.

“Wait, Seok, did you know about it?”

“About what?” He looks up to Minghao, mid-chew.

“About them dating,” Minghao asks. Seokmin nods, because why would he lie? He thought Mingyu had told both of them. The whole school basically knew.

“Only because I asked. It was during your competition season though, so I think Mingyu didn’t want to tell you and put more stress on you. Don’t worry, it was just a little thing.” Seokmin tries to placate the situation. That was also the true- Minghao had enough on his mind with dance at the time and Mingyu thought he didn’t need more.

It has to be the first time Seokmin knows something about Mingyu that Minghao doesn’t.

He sees Mingyu stiffen a bit when Minghao turns to him. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t need to tell you everything,” Mingyu says with almost no tact. There’s pancake stuffed so thickly in his cheeks that he looks like a squirrel.

“Oh.” Minghao leans back in his seat. “Alright then.” He sets his fork down to return to gnawing on his lip, and Mingyu lets out a low whine, swatting him gently in the head.

“Don’t do that, it’ll bleed.”

* * *

 

The sunset is a brushstroke of lilac across the sky, unlike yesterday. A cluster of clouds on the horizon look like cotton candy but are the color of sherbert, and Seokmin pulls out his phone to take a picture.

Ever since the restaurant they’ve been a little quieter. Even Chan seems more subdued, content to play Animal Crossing on his DS instead of converse. Minghao looks out the window, watching the ever-changing outside, and Mingyu focuses on the road.

Somewhere down the line, Seokmin drifts off into sleep.

He doesn’t dream of anything, but he does hear things. More specifically, something that sounds like the hushed rendition of his name. Foggy, he stirs awake and searches for the source.

“Tell… _Seokmin_ … me?” He picks up on words here and there before coming to full cognition. It’s completely dark outside now, Seokmin can only see the headlights in front of them. Lit by the faint blue of the dashboard, Mingyu and Minghao are still awake- and talking.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I thought I told you, but I guessed it slipped my mind. I’m sorry.” Mingyu says. _Ah,_ Seokmin recollects, _so that was Minghao talking before._

“It’s okay.” The artificial glow reflects off of Minghao’s hanging earring like a small, glinting star.

“Is… is anything wrong? Like, are- are you okay?” Mingyu edges, tentatively. He’s nursing the conversation: testing the waters before diving in. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

A beat of silence passes before either of them speak again.

It’s Minghao, “Yeah, I’m sure. I feel like I made a huge deal of it, my bad...”

“No, it _is_ a huge deal if you’re upset though. Don’t worry, we’re best friends. We can trust each other with anything… okay?”

 _‘Best friends’._ Seokmin feels his chest seize upon hearing the word. It’s not literal- not, _‘We’re best friends. Just us two.’_ but it kind of feels that way, and it’s hard to convince his heart even if his mind knows otherwise. _Ow._

“Don’t… I-” Minghao’s voice breaks like rain from clouds.

“You can tell me.” Mingyu soothes like rays of gentle sun.

“You’re going to hate me. Like… oh my god, I can’t- you won’t talk to me. Ah, this is a lot,” Minghao starts to bite his lip again, more aggressive than before. Mingyu reprimands him, taking one hand off the wheel to place it ever so gently over Minghao’s.

“You’re an idiot, no, I won’t _hate_ you. You can tell me anything.” Seokmin can hear Mingyu swallow in the pause. “Take your time.”

Minghao does. He takes so much time that Seokmin almost considers speaking up for a moment, letting them know he’s awake. There’s a strange intimacy in the air like lace- he doesn’t want to intrude, but he fears speaking up will ruin… whatever’s about to happen. His ears buzz mindlessly.

He feels like he’s back at prom, watching them dance around each other.

“I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll tell you. Just-” Minghao chokes on his words and goes silent again.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay. You… and you can laugh, but, I- um. I had…” The words come out all at once. “I had a huge crush on you one and I didn’t realize it until too late, which was like a little bit ago, and it kind of sucks because I think I might actually like you but we’re best friends and. I just need to tell you because I can’t _not_ tell you and I’m so sorry I don’t want to ruin…” He drops off.

Mingyu stays silent.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything either. The blood in his ears go from a trickle to a roar, clogging up his hearing. It’s like he has cotton balls stuffed in his head and he can’t get them out- it’s dizzying. He breathes, squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He really shouldn’t be-

“I… uh… I don’t-”

“It’s _fine_ , Mingyu, you don’t have to. I just wanted to tell you.” Minghao says, cutting him off. The light from the dashboard feels more green than blue now, wicked and waiting.

“No, it’s not- I just- I don’t know… what to say.”

God, the silence is like poison. Seokmin doesn’t know what to say or think either, but he can’t exactly say he’s surprised. He expected this a while ago, and just wants to hear from someone who _does_ know what to say. He’ll deal with his own opinions later- but Mingyu and Minghao deserve to work this out.

“Um,” Mingyu says, “I… like you, too. Or- I know I liked you at some point. This sounds really awful but I think… that I love you? I don’t like you anymore, I think I love you.”

Holy shit.

“No you don’t. Noooo. Oh my god.”

“Minghao stop, I’m serious.” Mingyu says, quickly, choking until something that sounds like a laugh comes out of him. He’s smiling. He must be hysterical. “I’m serious, I love you.”

“You do? You- _what?_ Are you joking?” It sounds like Minghao might be crying- or at least close to it.

“No, I do, I love you,” Mingyu is still laughing, “even when you dyed your hair three different colors I did. Even when you got suspended for skating down the hill by school damn well knowing a teacher would see you. Even when you fucking argue with me- which is, like, _all_ the time by the way.”

“Holy shit.” Minghao’s not close to crying anymore, it’s more laughter now. High pitched and bubbly, as always. “Not to be kind of gross but I’ve always wanted to hear you say that. Oh my god.”

“Me too,” Mingyu breathes, “and look how easy it was.” If not for the console separating them, they’d probably kiss.

There are galaxies in their eyes.

Seokmin squeezes his eyes shut. He should go back to sleep.

* * *

 

Eventually Seokmin does fall away, and when he wakes up, they’re in the parking lot of another hotel. Mingyu and Minghao softly tap him and Chan until they can walk on their own, and they lethargically gather everything from the car.

Seokmin feels like jelly. Like he’s still sleeping, all warm and soft, and his jelly limbs are melting.

Luckily they’re going to get a room, though, and the first leg of the trip will be over and done with. He, Minghao, and Mingyu can go explore around Atlanta- maybe check out the aquarium or find a good place for barbeque. Store up on energy and memories before getting trapped in the car again.

“Want me to grab that?” Mingyu asks, taking the duffel from Seokmin’s pliant hands without waiting for an answer.

“Thank you,” he manages, albeit quietly. As he grabs the bag, Seokmin looks down to Mingyu’s other hand, resting on a suitcase handle right next to Minghao’s. The tips of their fingers are touching.

_Oh, that’s right._

It hits him like a blast of cool air. The conversation that the two (well, three) shared just a few hours ago- that _was_ a thing that happened.

Seokmin blinks a couple of times. He was hoping he would go to sleep and wake up not remembering it, and then continue to not remember it.

Not to be mistaken, though. He was over the moon that Minghao and Mingyu had _finally_ addressed what was holding them back. The pain of locking up feelings that strong so tightly for so long- it had to be agonizing. For both of them.

He expects nothing less than being the best man at their wedding, of course.

But he also wanted to be… more than their best man. If Minghao and Mingyu started dating, then selfishly, Seokmin wanted to be a part of it in some way. Not that he wanted _in_ on the relationship, but he didn’t want to be left out. He didn’t want to be standing to the side, trailing behind.

Guilt sunk deep in him.

He should be happy for their happiness, if he was really their friend, not distraught over it. He should be able to trust them enough to know this wouldn’t change things. But, he also couldn’t be upset if it _did_ change things because that meant Minghao and Mingyu were happy and-

“Seok, come on buddy!” Minghao calls out, and Seokmin returns with a start.

The hike up to the room is spent in silence. Chan is a dead man walking, much like last night, and Seokmin (for once) doesn’t feel like talking. All he wants to do is climb into bed and stay there until he has to get out.

Mingyu and Minghao share a bed again, and Seokmin gets under the covers with Chan- who briefly complains about his sleep talking, but then gives in.

He smiles in triumph, scooting in closer to the younger boy and spooning him. The warmth coaxes him into sleep quickly, and he actually manages to get a good night’s rest.

Minghao offers to go down to the lobby when they wake up and grab them all food. He’s in his pajamas, and it reminds Seokmin of the early mornings they used to spend together (granted, Minghao is a lot more fashionable now, but still). Seokmin and Chan tell him to just grab a whole bunch of bagels and muffins, and Mingyu narrowly escapes through the door after him, to, _‘help you carry everything’._

Chan shifts next to him, reaching over to grab the remote for the TV. "Do you want to watch something? Any requests?"

"Anything is fine," Seokmin says, voice tight and uncomfortable in his throat. He does want to watch TV, to sit here with the younger boy and just laugh for a little bit. But, he's also burning to talk. It makes his skin itch and crawl, and whenever he has to keep a secret for more than a day it makes him burst.

Seokmin was never one for holding things in anyway- "Minghao likes Mingyu." He said that out loud.

Mouth agape slightly, Chan lowers the remote. Seokmin can feel his gaze hot on him, and so he just nods, like that was it.

"I thought... so he _does_ like him? How do you know for sure?" The cooking show they're watching goes silent as Chan mutes the television. He turns to Seokmin, carefully.

"Last night, in the car. I woke up, you were still sleeping, and they were talking." Seokmin says. That stupid cotton feeling is back in his head. "And Minghao finally said that he likes Mingyu, which we expected, but then Mingyu said he likes Minghao _back._ And I fell back asleep, but it definitely happened. _"_

Chan nods, like he doesn't know how to respond. He probably doesn't. He's the younger one, after all, and he's never really involved in drama so Seokmin doubts he's gone through giving advice like this before. He never should have-

"Did they know you were awake?" Chan asks, his eyes not leaving Seokmin's face.

"No," he replies, fidgeting with his hands. The silence is deafening. He thinks his head might explode, swimming with so much adrenaline that it hurts.

"So," Chan pauses, "they like each other."

"Yeah," Seokmin says, trying to smile.

"Well that's awesome, right? That's kind of romantic, actually." Chan nudges Seokmin's shoulder in what he guesses is an attempt to cheer him up. It is romantic- it's _really_ romantic.

Then, Chan asks him, "How do you feel about it?"

"I'm happy for them, really. They finally figured things out, it's going to be... really good for them. Now they can stop arguing all the time and just make out instead." Seokmin says, pressing the smile harder onto his face. He's pretty good at covering up- he's had to learn how to be good at it, because he blurts stupid stuff out all the time. Like right now. _Great_.

"Okay," Chan says, starting to lean back again.

He doesn’t sound totally convinced, and the older tenses up again. But if Chan thinks he’s lying, he doesn't say anything, and unmutes the TV. The woman on the program is making some sort of glaze for a chicken, and she pours in two generous shots of vodka.

Seokmin tries to shake himself out of his funk and be happy, because Mingyu and Minghao are his best friends and they deserve nothing less than the best. That's his job- to be the mediator- the one who always listens, always understands, always supports.

So why is it so hard to do right now?

After a while, Chan speaks up, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know," Seokmin answers, quickly. The floodgates open, "I'm happy for them, I promise. They'll probably be one of those high school sweetheart couples that never breaks up, which is good, because I don't want either of them to be heartbroken. But... I'm worried. I hate that I'm worried, I feel awful."

"Don't feel awful- you can’t control that," Chan reprimands, making a noise in his throat. He slaps Seokmin on the chest, bringing their gazes back together. Seokmin feels like he's on the verge of crying once again, which is so stupid because he's just confused- and here he is, burdening his younger friend with everything.

"I'm kind of scared. I haven't said this before, but I've always kind of... felt left out, with them, sometimes. We've known each other for so long- so there's no getting rid of me at this point- but I _do_ feel like I'm not as close with them as they are with me. It kind of sucks." Oh _no,_ here come the tears. Seokmin feels them start to pool near the corner of his eyes, coming so quickly that he can't stop them. Streaks of hot, wet tears start to roll fatly down his tears.

"It's... never a good feeling to be left out." Chan starts, carefully. He pretends not to notice Seokmin start crying. "But just know that they do care for you. Have you ever told them?"

He gives a big, ugly sniff. "I haven't. I don't want to, because that would probably make them feel bad about it. And now that they're together and I know but I wasn't _supposed_ to know, I just- I wouldn't know what to say." Oh, he's an awful mess.

"Be honest. You can think of what to say beforehand, and write it out, if that helps. But don't be scared, okay? It may not seem like it all the time, but Mingyu and Minghao love you just as much as they love each other. The three of you have been together since, like, forever. Something like this wouldn't tear you apart. Your feelings matter just as much as theirs- you got that?" Now he's _really_ crying.

"You're so much more mature than I am, how do you do that," Seokmin whines, pitching up in a laugh. Chan just grins.

"I learned from the best," the boy says, so soft and sweet that it tastes like spun sugar. Chan leans over, crushing Seokmin in the most loving and uncomfortably positioned hug he's ever had.

"Thank you," Seokmin breathes into his shoulder. He mumbles an apology for soaking it through with his tears. They spend the moment together for a little longer, suspended in silence.

Then, Seokmin speaks up with a sniffle, "Can we keep watching vodka lady?" Chan dissolves into raucous laughter, taking Seokmin with him. He feels hysterical, laughing and crying at the same time. He's hungry, too.

"Of course."

* * *

 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao return, Seokmin and Chan have already done something stupid.

To Seokmin, the best way to get over a good cry was to cheer yourself up. During their junior year, when he missed the role he wanted in the school production and it was given to a freshman (ugh), Minghao and Mingyu took him out for ice cream. Not that Seokmin was outright complaining- the freshman was quite talented and he understands why he got the part, but his friends saw right through his smile.

The two queen beds in their hotel room were set about two and a half feet apart, and with a little pushing and pulling, they managed to create a super-bed. Now, Chan sits in the middle swaddled in the extra covers like a cocoon, and Seokmin relaxes on a throne of a ridiculous amount of decorative pillows.

“What did you two do?” Minghao chuckles, walking in with a tray of muffins and coffee. Mingyu peeks out from over his shoulder, canines showing with a silly grin.

“Did you guys make a super-bed? Oh my god, it’s _huge!_ ” He nearly tips Minghao over, rushing past the boy to jump straight between Chan and Seokmin. The bed gives dramatically under his weight, the mattress groaning as it bounces up and down.

Chan lets out a sharp yelp, shoving Mingyu off his blanket-wrapped form and into Seokmin. The tallest has melted into a laughing, snorting mess- and Seokmin joins in, wrapping Mingyu in his arms so that he can’t get away.

“I’m putting the muffins and stuff down over here,” Minghao says, placing the tray near the TV on the dresser. Seokmin peers over the top of Mingyu’s head- it looks like an assortment of blueberry, chocolate chip, and banana.

“Thanks Hao!” He releases Mingyu and rolls off the bed with distinctly lacking grace, grabbing food off the tray and perching on the end of the mattress- away from the mass of limbs.

The baked goods aren’t half bad- maybe a little dry- but pleasantly edible. The coffee leaves something to be desired, however, and Seokmin feels a pang of longing for the days when Minghao was a Starbucks barista and would bring them free drinks Monday mornings.

Chan and Seokmin eat their breakfast as the other boys update them on the lay of the land: where the ice bucket machine is, the faster elevator, and how to get to the pool.

“I can’t swim, the coach says it’s a risk for injury,” Chan says, getting up to throw his muffin wrapper in the trash. He wipes the crumbs from his hands and starts to collect workout clothes from his duffel.

“That’s silly,” Minghao remarks. His eyes follow the younger boy as he pulls on a pair of black sweats and a t-shirt. “What are you up to? Going somewhere?”

“Yes, _Mom_ ,” Chan says, smiling, “I wanted to get some cardio and stretching in. I feel kind of stiff… you said there’s a fitness center right?” He pulls on his shoes, about to open the door.

“Yeah, it’s on the first floor. Make sure to take a room key with you!” Mingyu calls after his retreating form.

“And keep your phone with you!” Minghao adds on.

Seokmin starts to laugh, “Be home before dark! And don’t talk to strangers!” The door slams shut with a _bam!_ and no reply from the younger boy.

“We’ve raised our son so well. I’m really going to miss him,” Mingyu says wistfully.

“I couldn’t be more proud.” Seokmin agrees, faking tears as he takes the other two into a messy embrace. He feels their shoulders shake in tandem as all of them give into the joke, laughter mixing in a hot, breathy pool between their faces.

It feels good, to laugh like this.

“You know what’s weird?” Minghao asks, voice muffled by the closeness. “We’re going to college.” Mingyu smacks his lips together, because, _Yep, there it is._

“Everything is going to be different,” Mingyu whispers.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you guys,” Seokmin says. He doesn’t realize how quiet his voice is until it comes out. Minghao bumps their heads weakly together, a furrow in his brows.

“Don’t say that, you’re going to make me cry. Please,” Minghao sighs. The three take a moment before pulling away from each other, and Seokmin cups his own cheeks in his hands. It may be a little too late for him.

“Too bad I’m already crying.” Seokmin has tears rolling down his face before he even knows it. _Great_ , he knows he’s an emotional person but this marks a record in the amount of times he’s cried in such a short day. Mingyu makes a cooing noise upon seeing Seokmin’s face, reaching out a hand to wipe the tears from his skin.

“Don’t cry!” Minghao protests, reaching out to slap Seokmin’s knee. “It’s too early for this, oh my god.” There’s a warble to the boy’s voice that tells Seokmin he isn’t as composed as he’s pretending to be.

“College is just so scary,” Seokmin blubbers, feeling very pitiful. “It’s really weird.” Minghao rubs reassuring circles on his knee, brown eyes trained so deeply on Seokmin’s that he feels like his soul is being looked at. Nearly identical is Mingyu’s face, etched in such gentle concern that it squeezes Seokmin’s stomach.

Chan’s words ring in his ears: _‘Minghao and Mingyu love you just as much as they love each other.’_

“I heard you guys last night,” he blurts out. Mingyu freezes. Minghao’s face falls a centimeter.

“You-”

“I heard you say almost everything, including that you have feelings for each other.” Seokmin takes a moment to breathe, but it comes out shaky. “I’m sorry, I should’ve spoken up or said something earlier. I just didn’t know… how…”

Minghao’s hand stills on his knee. Something unreadable passes over his face, and for a moment Seokmin thinks he’s in trouble. He didn’t even stop to consider what telling them would mean, he just wanted to talk about the future and-

“We were going to tell you anyway, it’s okay. I- ha, I almost feel like this makes it easier.” Mingyu manages to say, turning to Minghao for support. The boy finally snaps from his daze, smiling in agreement. It’s a little crescent on his lips, nothing more than a suggestion.

“I would’ve told you earlier, before telling Mingyu, but- I didn’t want to make things awkward or make you uncomfortable,” Minghao says. Seokmin sucks in a big sob- of course that was what it was. Of course, they were all thinking the same thing.

“It wouldn’t, I don’t-don’t _care_ ,” Seokmin tries to say, but his crying is making it difficult. “I’d rather have you t-tell me instead of keep… keep it in. I feel _awful_.”

“Why do you feel awful? Don’t feel awful,” Mingyu shushes him. Seokmin shakes his head.

“No, I feel aw-awful because instead of being there for you guys and being happy like I _should_ be I just feel bad. I know you won’t l-leave me behind but we’re going to school and I’m so _scared_ of being left… left behind.” The wracks in his speech are making him hard to understand, and Seokmin stop talking to collect himself. Mingyu and Minghao are staring at him, still, with so much concern that his stomach lurches again.

“Come here,” Minghao murmurs. He pulls Seokmin flush against his chest before he even has the chance to protest. Somehow, it immediately makes him cry harder, and now he’s just making a mess of Minghao’s t-shirt. First Chan’s, now his, and if Mingyu comes any closer then he’s next.

“We would never,” Minghao continues. He squeezes tighter, “Don’t _ever_ think we’ll leave you behind. It doesn’t matter if we like each other or start dating. Seokmin- you’re _so_ important to us. Since always, it’s been the three of us. That will never change. Okay? I love you.”

“I can’t even _imagine_ what things would be like without you. You’re, like, the human embodiment of sunshine or motor oil.” He can hear the smile in Mingyu’s voice.

Seokmin lets out the most pathetic, tear-filled laugh. “Motor oil?”

“Yeah, motor oil,” Mingyu says, “you fuel people up and keep them going.”

“Dude, you mean the _world_ to us. We all mean the world to each other. Just because… the nature of our relationship changes, or something is different, doesn’t mean that everything has to change. And Mingyu and I liking each other romantically doesn’t mean we love you any less. You’re just as important. We’re all the same.” _God_ , Minghao must have been a philosopher in one of his past reincarnations. Or maybe he’s one now.

Seokmin has never had such a mixture of emotions pass through him all at once before. He pulls back and looks, through glassy eyes, at his two best friends in the whole wide world. Minghao has his regular long earrings in- even in the morning, he remembers to put them on. Mingyu’s hair is set nice and silky but he’s still wearing his pajama pants, the same ones he’s been wearing since sophomore year.

The future is scary. Even the present is scary. Terrifying- really. But he knows that they’ll be able to face whatever the universe throws at them if they’re together.

That’s how it’s always been and always will be.

**Author's Note:**

> AHH THERE IT IS. please go check out the rest of the fanfics in this secret santa collection, they're all GOLD.... and leave a comment here if you feel like it : )
> 
> i also wanna thank all of rhhb (esp rosie for listening to me be an idiot), my mutuals, and my friends caroline and allie for putting up with me and supporting me in all my writing affairs. you are all stars. 
> 
> if you wanna talk to me on twitter, i'm @fairy_hao! (i don't know how to hyperlink, someone help??) anywho- have a great day! i hope you enjoyed!


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